Baby Dribbles
by whoa nellie
Summary: A series of 12 drabbles portraying scenes from the most wondrous time in the Picards' lives.


Baby Dribbles   
Whoa Nellie   
Series: TNG   
Rating: PG   
Codes: P/Vash, drabble   
Summary: A series of 12 drabbles portraying scenes from the most wondrous time in the Picards' lives. 

Author's note: A drabble is a short story of exactly 100 words. 

Important detail: These occur in the Double Entendre timeline after Volte-face (reminder: in this universe, Worf is Chief of Security and married to Deanna; there is no Crusher/Chakotay relationship and Riker still has his beard). Our entire collection of Picard/Vash stories can be found at the Picard/Vash Romance Fan Fiction website listed on our author's page. 

As always: Paramount owns all the marbles, we just have a lot more fun playing with them.   
Feedback is always appreciated - posted or e-mail.   


**What's in a Name**

Jean-Luc Picard gave a sigh of exasperation. "I don't see what the problem is, it's a perfectly respectable name." 

"Will, you understand don't you? Would you help me out here, please." Vash turned to Riker seated beside her at the weekly poker game. 

Riker looked past Vash toward her husband, Jean-Luc Picard. "I'm afraid she's right, sir. As flattered as I am that you would want to name your son after me and your brother, you can't name the boy William Robert Picard." 

"Why not?" Picard asked. 

"In English vernacular," Riker explained. "You would be naming your son, Billy Bob."   


**If Momma Ain't Happy**

"Um, Vash," Riker began hesitantly, "I wasn't finished with that." 

Vash shoved the glasses into the recycler. "With my morning, noon and night queasiness, I just can't stand the smell of alcohol or synthehol." 

"So how much longer are we going to be drinking water during our weekly poker games?" Geordi asked, getting a little nervous when everyone started edging away from him. He looked for protection from his captain. 

Picard leaned back in his chair with his own glass of water with a slice of lemon. "The Pregnancy Prime Directive, Mr. LaForge. If Momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy."   


**A Man's Gotta Do What a Man's Gotta Do**

Vash was thirsty. She rolled over and nudged her husband. "Jean-Luc, are you awake?" When he didn't answer, she shoved him harder. "Jean-Luc, wake up." 

Picard quickly sat up. "Lights and current status." 

"Whoa Nellie, easy boy," Vash said. "The ship is fine, your wife wants some cranberry juice." 

Glancing at the chronometer, he looked back at her. "It's 0237." 

"So it is," she noted blithely. "Not the replicated stuff. Guinan got some real cranberry juice from Earth. She has several bottles in Ten-Forward." 

"Anything else while I'm up?" 

"Now that you mention it, I could go for some watermelon."   


**Law of Physical Possibility**

Entering Ten-Forward for a late dinner, Riker and Data stepped aside to let the Picards pass by. Because of the twins, Vash was already showing just over four months into her pregnancy. 

"So, it's true what they say," Riker professed charmingly. "Women get even more beautiful when they're pregnant, they truly do glow." 

Hormonal and feeling fat, Vash muttered, "you'll truly glow after I shove a warp core up your ass." 

Picard's mouth twitched and he hurriedly coughed to cover his snort of amusement. 

"I do not believe that would be physically possible," Data contended. 

"Want to make a bet"   


**SCUBA baby**

Jean-Luc Picard slid into bed beside his wife and lay on his side with his head propped on one hand. "Have you ever wondered," he began, tracing designs on Vash's increasingly pregnant belly. "how babies breathe in the womb?" 

Vash raised an eyebrow at her husband before rolling her eyes. "This is what you contemplate on the bridge of the Federation's flagship?" She shifted into a more comfortable position. "Well, to answer your question so that you aren't distracted from your apparently-not-so-important command responsibilities, they have their own self-contained, underwater breathing apparatus--or should I say umbilical breathing apparatus."   


**Games Mommies Play**

Vash was engrossed in what she was doing and failed to notice Picard when he entered the room. With a dreamy smile on her face, she gently poked at her pregnant belly and then laid her palm flat against the same spot. Amused, he watched her for a few moments. "What are you doing?" 

"Playing poke-a-boo." 

"Poke-a-boo?" he walked over to her. She took one of his hands in hers. 

"Poke," she poked her stomach and then laid his palm over the spot and watched his face light up with delight when one of their unborn children poked back. "A-boo."   


**Games Babies Play**

Jean-Luc entered the quarters not sure whether to be apprehensive or concerned. He'd stopped by the archaeology lab only to be told that Vash had left early. She was lying on the couch reading PADDs and he walked over to drop a tender kiss on the top of her head. "Are you all right, chere?" 

"Oh, just peachy damn keen," Vash said sarcastically. She reached out and smacked him hard on his chest. 

"What was that for?" 

"I can't get anything done because YOUR children have spent the better part of the afternoon playing Parrises Squares with MY internal organs."   


**Games Daddies Play**

"What is this?" Vash demanded the instant Picard walked into their quarters. In her hand was a PADD she had found in the bedside table. 

"A PADD," Picard offered hesitantly. 

"It looks like a score card," she said. 

He straightened his uniform jacket. "Oh that . . . well it's . . . not really a . . . Okay, it is sort of . . ." 

"You're keeping a scorecard of who wins arguments between us?" Vash yelled, incredulous. 

"No, not that kind of score card," he quickly assured her. "I try to anticipate your mood; if I'm right, I get a point and if I'm wrong you get a point."   


**Call of Nature**

"Would it be possible," Picard began hesitantly, "for you to send one of your assistants to the briefing this afternoon?" 

"Don't you want to see your wife and children," Vash called out. 

"Of course, chere, it's just that these meetings seem to take a little bit longer than they used to. " 

Vash came out of the bathroom, adjusting her clothes. "What do you mean?" 

Picard tenderly caressed her face and the swollen slope of her belly, hoping to avoid a spontaneous outbreak of hormonal waterworks. "It's not very productive for everyone to take a potty break every ten minutes."   


**Perspectives**

Sitting in bed, Picard glanced down at his wife's burgeoning abdomen. A section of Vash's belly violently lurched with a sudden protrusion that disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. "Mon Dieu, did you see that?" 

Vash rubbed the spot where one of her unborn twins had delivered a potent blow. Incredulously, she looked over to meet Jean-Luc's amazed gaze and gave him a swift kick beneath the covers. Feigning innocence, she matched his astonished tone. "Oh my, did you see that?" 

"See it, I felt it," he replied, rubbing his leg. "Oh, right." 

"It's all in the perspective, cher."   


**Gestational Hazards**

Vash stormed into Jean-Luc's ready room, her grand entrance mitigated somewhat by her ungainly gait at her advanced stage of pregnancy. She slammed a PADD on his desk and glared wildly at him. "Approve this." 

Picard scanned the requisition. "May I ask what the archaeology department needs with a phaser rifle?" 

"I'll settle for a hand phaser," Vash said in a clipped tone. 

"Delighted to hear that," he remarked calmly, "but why do you need it?" 

Vash slammed her hands down on his desk. "I have had enough. If one more person touches my stomach, I'm going to shoot them."   


**Maximum Occupancy**

"I want them out, NOW!" Vash demanded. "They're done." 

Beverly finished her scan of the very pregnant archaeologist. "I can't help you there, but Jean-Luc can." 

"How so?" Picard asked, reaching in to rub the small of Vash's back in an almost habitual motion after the last several months of her pregnancy. 

"What got her into this condition will also get her out of this condition," the CMO pointed out. 

Vash exchanged an amused glance with Beverly. "I'm not exactly feeling sensuous at the moment." 

Picard raised an eyebrow. "Besides, it seems to be a bit crowded in there already." 

FINIS   



End file.
